Unknown Comfort
by littlev123
Summary: No matter what Yurick may believe, he would never be truly alone. Takes place before the game. Rated T because the game is. Can be seen as either romance or friendship. Oneshot.


A muffled sob broke through the quiet of the night.

Mirania turned toward her sleeping friends, her eyes flickering over them to discern the source. Dagran appeared peacefully asleep, his hands behind his head while his sword rested beside him. Zael's chest slowly moved up and down in time with his breathing, his hair slightly ruffled in sleep. Lowell lay on his back, his head resting on his scarf he had rolled up to create a makeshift pillow. Syrenne slept the closest to the campfire, lying on her stomach as the crackling flames shadowed the now empty bottle still gripped in her hand. Mirania herself was awake since it was her turn to take watch, so that only left one person; Yurick.

Yurick was curled up on his left side, facing away from Mirania. He was placed a little farther away from the fire than everyone else, sticking out of the group's circle. This wasn't unusual; he tended to put himself in a position where he felt wasn't too close to anyone, but still had protection in the case of a surprise attack. However, upon watching him closer, Miranira realized that his slight shaking wasn't just an illusion cast by the light of the flittering flames upon his dark blue shirt.

Mirania quietly rose from her spot and approached Yurick. She walked over to his other side to see his front, her steps faltering once his face became visible to her. Her concern immediately spiked.

Wet streaks stained his cheek, the tears slipping from his closed left eye and flowing down the pale skin. The miniature streams flowed down to the ground, where his head rested against the hard earth, and was slowly soaked up by the scruffy grass. His other eye lay hidden underneath the concealing cloth of his black eye patch, but it did nothing to mask the deep emotional pain present in his tense jaw and shuddering breaths. His body trembled from the inner turmoil his mind's eye had manifested, trapping him in a merciless nightmare.

Pity stirred within Mirania's chest as she observed Yurick's anguished form, along with a pang of sudden guilt. He always appeared callous and austere, never showing emotion beyond scarce moments of anger or cynicism. She almost felt like she was intruding on a private moment, violating his innermost emotions without his knowing.

Despite this, she had already decided in that instant that she couldn't leave him in this condition. She kneeled down next to him and began to reach out to him with a hand, but then hesitated in doubt. How would he react if he woke up and realized that she had seen him in this undefended state?

"No…please…" Yurick's voice, brimming with agony and sorrow, was barely audible above the constant crackling of the distant campfire. His right hand desperately clawed at the earth,grasping at an invisible shred of the nightmare that only he could see, and then clenched into a closed fist until his knuckles turned white. "Mum, please…don't die…I need you…don't leave me here alone…please…" the pleas were little more than a choked whisper, but their weight wrenched and tore at Mirania's heartstrings.

Casting her doubts aside in favor of her friend, she cautiously placed her hand over his tensed one. His fist twitched at the unexpected contact, but his eyes remained firmly shut.

"Yurick…" Mirania murmured softly. Her eyes grazed over his helpless figure, unused to seeing him looking so feeble and vulnerable. Yurick always kept up his guard with an icy, standoffish demeanor, only breaking character with a rare sarcastic remark or giving helpful advice in battle. In all of the time he had spent with the other mercenaries, he had never seemed to open up to anyone. In fact, when she truly thought about it, she was surprised by how little they did know about him. None of them knew anything about his past, how exactly he came to be a mercenary, any of his friends or family, or even his interests beyond reading and practicing his fire magic. Looking over him now, Mirania realized that this unwitting show of emotion was barely scratching the surface of his true personality, albeit a depressing one.

Yurick's loner traits and mature behavior often distracted others from his real age. He acted with knowledge and experience beyond his years, belying everyone he came across. In reality, he was barely sixteen years old, the youngest of the mercenaries by several years; a youth.

Mirania had never thought about the circumstances that had shaped Yurick before now. Whatever trials he had encountered in the past must have been harsh and cruel to turn him into this; a boy always guarding against his own emotions, never allowing himself the relief of sharing a burden with a friend and forcing him to mature much too early in life.

She knew that Yurick did have a tenderer, more placid nature than anyone else would believe. Mirania had been lucky to see that little known side of him once, in an alley a few months ago.

_The mercenary group entered the city, glancing over the sights and ignoring the dirty looks shot their way by passing pedestrians. It was a rather standard town, containing the usual shops and a simple tavern. Townspeople flooded the streets, either rushing to their next destination or bartering with the merchants._

_The band walked in their normal positions; Zael and Dagran led the way, Syrenne and Lowell bickering with each other just behind, while Yurick and Mirania quietly brought up the rear. _

_Unlike the other pairs ahead of them, Yurick and Mirania didn't speak to each other very much. It wasn't because they disliked each other; it was simply because Yurick usually didn't act like he wanted to talk, and Mirania respected that wish. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though. In fact, there are times where he seemed to be appreciative of her presence, such as now. As the mercenaries turned into a narrow alley that forced them to brush past other citizens in close vicinity, Yurick edged just the slightest bit closer to Mirania under the incriminating eyes of the passerby. Mirania's thoughtful gaze barely noticed it and, as she glanced over at Yurick, he didn't seem to be aware that he had done so either. His face remained stoic, giving nothing away; moving closer must have been a subconscious effort to seek protection or comfort._

_But that led Mirania to wonder: Protection against what? He was surely used to this type of reception by now. So why—_

"_Coming through!" a sudden shout cut through Mirania's thoughts. Startled, her head turned toward the source of the sound; a high ranking knight of some sort was pushing through the crowds, heedless of those in his way. Behind him marched a platoon of soldiers, swiftly approaching the soon-to-be overcrowded alleyway. _

_Mirania quickly managed to slip just around the corner of the last building edging the alley seconds before the men brushed past her. She felt the jagged bricks of the building dig and scrape against her back in her escapade, and then stepped back to check on her friends. Thankfully, due to the thick, protective cloth of her shirt, the incident only left her with a slight bruise._

"_Oi! What the hell was that for?!" a female voice demanded, clearly miffed at the sudden intrusion. "Just 'cause you're a knight don't mean you have the right to shove us off the road!"_

_Mirania turned toward the easily recognizable thick accent to see Syrenne, her hands placed irritably on her hips. Lowell sighed at her accusation._

"_Syrenne, do you honestly believe that they'll listen to you now?" he questioned._

_She huffed. "Like I would wanna talk to 'em anyway. They can stick those pretty little titles right up their—"_

"_Syrenne?" Dagran, followed closely by Zael, made his way through the equally irate crowd to join them. "I thought I heard you over here."_

"_I'm sure the soldiers did too." Zael commented._

_Syrenne opened her mouth to speak, but Lowell quickly interjected to stop her rant. "It doesn't matter now, what's done is done. The tavern should be just over there."_

"_Let's get on it then so you can go find a drunk girl for the night, eh?" she smirked, her eyes lighting up at the mention of the tavern._

"_I do not take advantage of women while they are intoxicated." Lowell defended. "That is not how a gentleman treats a beautiful woman."_

_Off to the side, Dagran turned to Zael and Mirania. Lowell and Syrenne didn't even notice, too absorbed in their usual exchange of playful insults._

_Dagran looked over them as if calculating before speaking. "Where is Yurick?"_

_Mirania looked around, suddenly noticing the mage's absence. "We were separated when the soldiers came." she explained._

"_We need to find him soon." Zael replied, his voice hinted with worry for the youngest member of their group. "He can't have gotten far."_

"_I'll go back into the alley." Mirania offered._

_Dagran hesitated, but then nodded. Splitting up in an unfamiliar environment was not a very appealing idea, but at the moment was the best course of action. "We'll search around the nearby streets in case he escaped that way. We'll meet up at that tavern." He glanced over at Syrenne and Lowell. "…they'll figure it out soon enough."_

_With that, they split off to their designated areas. Mirania headed back to the alley, where the backs of the group of soldiers were finally exiting the long pathway. The citizens peered out from their doorways after them, where they had fled to to avoid being caught up in the influx. _

_Mirania walked down the alley, her eyes observing the scene until she finally discerned Yurick's light hair about halfway down the street. Yurick stepped backwards off of a house's small steps, which must have been the closest refuge. Mirania started walking toward him, her curiosity rising as she noticed that he seemed to be facing the wall for some reason. His arm, hidden by a trader's banner adorning the side of the building, was outstretched toward something. Mirania stepped a little over to the side in order to achieve a better view, and then nearly halted in surprise at what she discovered._

_Yurick's hand protectively gripped a young child's shoulder, having moved him out of the way to protect him from being trampled. Yurick let his arm fall to his side and stepped back after he glanced back at the soldiers, making sure it was safe for them to emerge._

_"Thank you for saving me, Mister." the seven-year-old boy's high voice reached Mirania's ears. Yurick blinked, his expression softening at the gratitude. _

_"You're welcome. Now, you should return to your parents before they get worried." his voice was almost unrecognizable. His tone was gentle, the biting edge he usually laced onto his words completely gone. _

_"Okay!" the child happily agreed, and then sprinted down the path where his parents welcomed him with relief. Yurick watched him go, his eyes soft with compassion, but also tinged with something that was akin to reminiscence and melancholy. _

_This was an entirely new side to Yurick that Mirania had never seen before. The drastic change was unbelievable. Yurick's true emotions were unguarded, revealing a much kinder and gentler personality beneath. For once, he appeared to be at ease, not lashing out or closing himself off to the world._

_A paper wrapping of some sort crunched as Mirania's foot pressed down on it. She glanced down with the realization that she had broken this serene moment, and then looked back up to see the effect of her accidental action._

_Yurick immediately whirled around, his eyes widening in shock before narrowing in immediate hostility. The mental barriers he created around his mind sprung up again, stomping out the kindheartedness under a steely glare of animosity. _

"_I suppose Dagran sent you to find me after we got separated." He crossed his arms and turned his head away from her in indignant indifference. "Well, as you can see, I am perfectly fine. I know how to take care of myself."_

"_I never said you couldn't." she replied delicately, but it was too late; his guard was already up, with no intention of backing down anytime soon._

"_But you were insinuating it." he walked past her, not even sparing her another glance. "We should go before they needlessly worry about the defenseless little mage who can't be let out of their sight for more than five minutes." Mirania could only watch him for a moment, stunned by the bitterness flaring in his words. But the resentment wasn't aimed toward her, or any of their other mercenaries, but something much farther away, within his own memory._

"_We would never think about you that way. Nor is worrying for a friend needless." she stated, but if Yurick heard, he didn't show it. He continued on down the lane, never looking back._

As Mirania's flashback ended, she briefly thought over the few weeks after that incident. Yurick had spoken even less than usual, especially toward Mirania. Eventually though, he returned to his slightly less antagonistic demeanor.

Mirania herself knew that she would never forget that day. Ever since then, she had noticed small things about Yurick that she had never seen before. For example, he seemed to have a soft spot for any children he came across. The miniscule signs were subtle, like a fleeting flash of compassion in his eyes or heavily concealed sympathy tinting a word; but they were there nonetheless. Yurick truly did care for others, whether he showed it or not.

She glanced down at her hand, noticing that she had started to gently brush her thumb over Yurick's blanched knuckles in a comforting motion without realizing it. The gesture did seem to be helping, judging by the decreased intensity of his trembling and the slowing of his tears, and so she did not pause.

If Yurick were awake, he would have never allowed her to comfort him. Mirania knew this for a fact. He would have drawn into himself, separating even farther away from any help that he secretly desired.

He almost seemed afraid to trust anyone, purposely keeping himself distant from others and trading his intense want for comfort in favor of security from even more agony. His constantly bottled up emotions, so desperate for an outlet, were tainting his dreams into vicious nightmares.

After a short while, Yurick's breathing had steadied into the gentle lull of sleep, his cheeks dry, and his hand relaxed. He looked much more peaceful and serene from only a few minutes ago, Mirania's silent reassurance calming his body and mind.

A small smile graced Mirania's lips as she reluctantly pulled her hand away. Her watch would be ending soon. Yurick didn't stir, still deep in his slumber.

Mirania watched him for a moment more before standing. One day, she was sure, he would be ready to open up to her and the others. It would take a long while before he's ready, but she knew it would happen. She would give Yurick all the time he needed; pushing him would only force him back into his shell. Until that day, Mirania would give him all the support she could with simple, if unknowing gestures like these tonight.

No matter what Yurick may believe, he would never be truly alone.

**A/N: I wrote this on a whim, so I apologize for any OOC-ness or notable mistakes that may be apparent. I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


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